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A Novel
by Akwaeke EmeziA New York Times bestselling author, National Book Award finalist, and "one of our greatest living writers" (Shondaland) reimagines the love story in this "riveting and emotional exploration of grief and taking a second chance on love" (PopSugar).
Feyi Adekola wants to learn how to be alive again.
It's been five years since the accident that killed the love of her life and she's almost a new person now—an artist with her own studio and sharing a brownstone apartment with her ride-or-die best friend, Joy, who insists it's time for Feyi to ease back into the dating scene. Feyi isn't ready for anything serious, but a steamy encounter at a rooftop party cascades into a whirlwind summer she could have never imagined: a luxury trip to a tropical island, decadent meals in the glamorous home of a celebrity chef, and a major curator who wants to launch her art career.
She's even started dating the perfect guy, but their new relationship might be sabotaged before it has a chance by the overwhelming desire Feyi feels every time she locks eyes with the one person who is most definitely off-limits—his father. Can she release her past and honor her grief while still embracing her future? And, of course, there's the biggest question of all—how far is she willing to go for a second chance at love?
"With tenderhearted characters and an immaculate balance of realistic dialogue and lyrical prose" (BuzzFeed), Akwake Emezi's vivid and passionate writing takes us deep into a world of possibility and healing. You Made a Fool of Death with Your Beauty is a "a love letter to the brave choices we make in the name of love, the costs we pay for it, and the glory of the reward at the end" (Marie Claire).
Chapter One
Milan was the first person Feyi had fucked since the accident.
They hooked up in a bathroom at a Memorial Day house party in Bushwick, with Feyi's glass of prosecco spilling into the sink and Milan's large hands sliding behind her thighs as he lifted her onto the bathroom counter. Speckled tiles stretched around them, washed bloody in the light of the red bulb someone had screwed into the ceiling, and a linen shower curtain hung around the bathtub, thick with monstera leaves. Feyi threw her head back, his mouth at her throat, and her long pink braids dripped over the faucet, the tips dragging against the draining bubbles of her drink.
"Tell me if you need to slow down," Milan said, his voice all tangled up, busy with want. "I know we just met or whatever."
He said it as if it could matter, or as if it was a reason to stop instead of a reason to go even faster. Feyi had first seen him back on the rooftop, when the party was in full force around them. She'd liked the way his eyes...

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